Between a Rock and a Hard Place
by Titan5
Summary: Trapped and completely immobilized by a cave-in, John waits and hopes his team is alive to rescue him.


**Title: **Between a Rock and a Hard Place

**Author: **Titan5

**Words: **4925

**Rating: **PG

**Summary: **Trapped and completely immobilized by a cave-in, John waits and hopes his team is alive to rescue him.

**Note: **Written for a Flashfic challenge with the prompt "traps/trapped" over on LJ several years ago. I just discovered I never brought it over to ffnet, so thought I'd correct that. Hope you enjoy! If you tried to read this earlier and saw a sea of gibberish, I apologize. I have no idea what happened, but I deleted it and started over and it seems to have worked this time.

**Between a Rock and a Hard Place**

Coughing in a feeble attempt at clearing the dust from his airway, John squinted in the darkness, trying in vain to see something, anything at all. The only thing that met his eyes was never-ending blackness. He couldn't move his arms to feel around and determine the size of his prison. His right arm was pinned underneath him, his left above his head and out to the side under an endless supply of rocks. The irregular surface of other rocks of various sizes bore down on his back, one of them gouging a nice sized bruise just under his right shoulder blade. He was trapped, completely pinned by the collapse of the tunnel, unable to even attempt to dig his way out.

Coming this way had seemed like a good idea at the time. Nothing like perfect 20/20 hind sight. They had been examining an Ancient facility that had mostly been trashed by looters. While Rodney tried to pull anything he could get from what was left of the consoles, Ronon and Teyla guarded their perimeter and John wandered the halls to see if there was anything else worth investigating. He'd stumbled upon the trap door in one of the emptied labs by accident, leading him to the underground tunnel he was now buried in. He wasn't sure if the rumbling and noisy collapse had been the result of an earthquake or if they'd been attacked, all he knew was that he was in deep trouble.

Knocked unconscious by the falling rocks, John wasn't sure how long he'd been here. His radio was gone, not that he could get to it if had still been in place. He'd yelled a few times, but so far no one had answered. Maybe they were having trouble finding the trap door. If the whole tunnel had collapsed, they would have to send to Atlantis to get help and it would be hours at best before they got to him. Then there was the possibility they were all dead and no one had any clue where he was.

Panic made his heart race and his breathing quicken. If the building was badly damaged, they might not be able to get to him at all, even if they figured out where he was. John began struggling furiously, pulling up and back in an attempt to free at least one of his arms. He only succeeded in banging his already aching head on the rocks above him and sending a shower of dust in his face. He coughed and coughed until he almost gagged himself.

_Get a grip John and stop panicking! _ He remembered some of the things Teer had taught him and focused in on her voice in his head. Slowly, he calmed himself and brought his breathing back under control. _You've got to stay calm and think about this logically_. "Stay positive," he said out loud.

Letting his head rest against the ground for a moment, John concentrated on injuries. Concussion, definitely. His right arm was almost numb from being caught underneath him, but he could wiggle his fingers without any sharp pains. He tried moving his left hand and quickly decided that arm was a bit worse off, probably a broken wrist, forearm, or both. Crap, that meant weeks in a cast . . . provided he got out of here alive.

Brushing off the negative thoughts, he tried to determine if anything else was broken or worse, but he couldn't move his legs at all. He could feel the weight of the tunnel ceiling pressing down on his back and legs, so no paralysis, but he was so firmly pinned that there was no moving at all. If he was bleeding . . . well, nothing he could do about that. If only he could at least see something.

Drawing in a breath, John blew out a puff straight ahead, trying to see if he could tell how large the air space was. Judging from the dust that wisped back in his face, probably not very large. Air was now becoming a concern. Was there enough gaps between the rocks to allow fresh air to come in? John fought against the second round of panic he felt coming on, trying to convince himself they would find him long before air became an issue.

The next thing he knew his head was tilted down, his forehead touching the rocky debris that littered the floor of the tunnel. When he lifted up, he could feel the imprint of sharp stones on his face and a couple of smaller ones stuck before giving in to gravity and dropping off. Blinking in confusion, he remembered where he was. He must have passed out. Taking a deep breath, he was relieved to find the air supply didn't appear to have diminished, although it didn't seem any clearer either.

He struggled against the rocks for a few seconds, this time giving up rather quickly. Most of his body was numb, so it was even more pointless than before. There was nothing to do but lie here and wait for rescue and that infuriated him. His heart pounded and his head throbbed as he went through every little thing he could have done differently so that he didn't end up trapped in a collapsed tunnel, wondering if his team was okay and if he would die here, buried alive. At least when he had been buried with Ronon, he wasn't alone and he could see what kind of mess he was in. He finally ended up yelling in frustration, which brought down another cascade of dust, which launched him into another coughing fit.

_Smart, John, real smart, _he chastised himself, gulping air in as he attempted to catch up his air supply. Leaning his head forward to rest on the ground again, John closed his eyes. They burned from the dust and probably from John straining to see through the darkness. For a moment he was sure he was going to die and that . . . disappointed him. It wasn't that he was not prepared to die, he was. He'd been preparing for that since he'd joined the Air Force. Since coming to the Pegasus Galaxy, he kept expecting it.

The problem was that there was a big difference between dying delivering a nuke to a Wraith ship or defending Atlantis from a jumper and dying like this, trapped in the rubble of a tunnel. Waiting to see if he suffocated or died from dehydration before the rest of the structure came down and crushed him was not his idea of a good time. Even turning into a bug hadn't been this bad. He'd been a lot more mobile and at least had gotten the rush of beating Ronon in their daily run. Of course on the other hand, he'd eventually had to worry about hurting his friends, his team. Okay, maybe this wasn't so bad. At least there was no way he could hurt anyone down here.

"Enough with the pessimistic thoughts," John said. His voice sounded flat in the limited space. Ignoring what that meant, he tried to distract himself. First he went through the name of everyone in Atlantis he could think of, along with their rank if they were military and their specialty if they were science or technical. Then he went back and recounted everyone he could remember that had left the city, along with when and why or how. That got depressing pretty quickly when he began adding up all the people who had died, so he shifted gears. Next he began trying to remember the planet designations of everywhere they had been and the names of people they had met. That led to a mental list of all the planets that would make good R&R spots, because he figured he was going to need some after this.

The next thing he knew, he was jerking his head up and banging it on the rocks again. He'd passed out at some point and he was pretty sure something had woken him up. Listening, he concentrated on figuring out if help might be nearby. For several seconds there was nothing, and then the rocks around him seemed to shift, sending a huge wave of dust down in his face. John coughed and wheezed until he thought he was going to pass back out, the effort making his head feel like it was going to explode.

"Sheppard?"

The voice was low and muffled, as if coming from a distance. John wasn't sure he heard it at first.

"Sheppard . . . we're coming."

He couldn't be sure, but it sounded like Ronon. John didn't really care who it was, as long as they got him out of here soon. The relief of knowing help was on the way left him giddy. "I'm here!" he yelled as loud as he could, not sure if it was loud enough. They were here. He wasn't alone any more.

Rocks behind him shifted again, sending more dust in his face, but this time he didn't care. The coughing it stirred up still made his headache spike so that he saw red behind his lids, but it meant that help was getting closer and closer. John resisted the urge to struggle, knowing from experience that it would do no good. He could wait. He could be patient, no matter what McKay said.

The sound of rocks directly behind him shifting was followed by a waft of cool air just before white hot pain shot up his leg and through his spine to explode in his head.

oOo

John jerked awake to what felt like ants crawling all over him . . . stinging ants. A sharp intake of breath brought an uncomfortable pressure on his shoulder, pressing the stinging critters into his flesh and causing him to moan.

"Easy, colonel, we've got you." John recognized Keller's voice, even if he couldn't get his eyes open to see her.

"Team?" he managed to whisper from underneath the oxygen mask he could now feel on his face.

"We are fine, John," said Teyla from his right.

"Speak for yourself. I've got several serious cuts and probably a skull fracture. Is that still bleeding because it looks like it's still bleeding to me?"

"Don't listen to McKay," Ronon's voice boomed. "We're all fine." There was a smacking sound followed by Rodney yelling, "Ow."

John thought he might have smiled as the sounds faded away. He knew all he needed to know.

oOo

"Rodney, please hold your voice down so that you do not disturb the colonel," hissed Teyla.

"Ha! Like that's even possible. He's been out of it for two days. I've been talking the whole time so what makes you think it's suddenly going to wake sleeping beauty up?"

"We _know_ you've been talking for two days, McKay. We've been here," said Ronon, irritation in his voice.

John wanted to open his eyes and let them know he was awake, or at least getting that way, but his eyes wouldn't seem to cooperate. As he lay there, an ache was developing in his right leg and his left forearm, as well as his head. Maybe he could just sink back into that nice pain-free land of sleep again.

"He twitched. I think the colonel's finally waking up." John couldn't help the wince that resulted from Rodney practically yelling in his ear.

"Rodney, I told you about keeping your voice down." Keller's voice held a warning tone that John prayed Rodney took note of. "Colonel Sheppard, can you hear me?"

John could feel the doctor taking his pulse as she spoke. He tried to say yes, but just made a sound like he was clearing his throat.

"It's okay, just take it slow and easy."

With a deep breath that let John know how bruised his torso was, he concentrated on getting his eyes to open. After a few moments, he succeeded and the world around him slowly came into focus. After who knows how many hours of darkness, John was thrilled to be able to see his surroundings.

"He's grinning, Why is he grinning?" asked Rodney, peering at him over Teyla's shoulder.

Teyla smiled knowingly and squeezed his hand. "I believe that John is happy to be out of that tunnel."

"You had yourself wedged in there pretty good," Ronon said, moving his head into John's field of view.

"Don't crowd him too much," warned Keller. As his team backed up a little, she raised the head of the bed a little and then offered him some water, which John gratefully accepted.

"Happened?" he said when his mouth had enough moisture he could speak.

"Earthquake," said Rodney in a long drawl. "With no history whatsoever of seismic events, it picks right when we're there exploring and you're in a tiny, underground tunnel to cut loose with a shaker. Go figure."

"Rodney believes the galaxy is out to get us," said Teyla.

"I was speaking metaphorically when I said that," insisted Rodney. "Obviously to take that literally would be ludicrous."

John looked down at his casted left arm and wiggled his fingers. Everything seemed to work, which was a relief. He lightly clenched and unclenched his right hand in a fist, careful of the IV. His right arm seemed fine except for a few scrapes and bruises.

"Everything should eventually heal," said Keller, apparently picking up on his concerns. "I'm not sure how, but nothing was crushed and blood flow, although slowed, wasn't compromised to the point of permanent damage. You have a nasty concussion, as I'm sure you're painfully aware, and you cracked both the radius and ulna down near your wrist. You also broke your tiba and fibula in a couple of places. We had to repair that with surgery."

Well, that explained the pain in his leg. Looking up at his team, he reveled in the fact that they all seemed okay. Rodney had some scrapes on his face and a large bruise on his right cheek. His right forearm sported a bandage. The physicist seemed to notice him staring and suddenly got a pained look on his face.

"I have seven stitches in my arm," he proclaimed proudly. "But even injured, I managed to lead the rescue team to the trap door so they could dig you out."

John gave him a small nod. "Thanks. H . . . how long?" He almost didn't want to know. He knew it had probably been a few hours, but it had seemed like a lot longer.

"Almost fifteen hours," Teyla said quietly, leaning over to squeeze his hand again. "We are sorry it took so long to get you out."

"Oh, please, a few hours of sitting around waiting on rescue was probably nothing to the colonel. This is the man that flies suicide missions like the rest of us fill out paperwork," said Rodney, waving one hand through the air.

John stared at his hands while his face got warm, not making eye contact with anyone in the room. He'd been scared, even panicking at one point. Suddenly he was embarrassed and wanted to be left alone, away from the prying eyes of his friends. The silence was overwhelming, telling him that his team was staring at him, wanting him to dismiss his time trapped and helpless in the tunnel. He just couldn't do it. It was still too fresh, the fear too close to the surface.

"I think the colonel needs some more rest," said Keller, adjusting the covers around him. "Why don't you go eat dinner and check back later," she suggested.

"I think that is an excellent idea," said Teyla. "We will let you rest and come back after we have eaten. I am happy that you are back with us."

"See you later, Sheppard," said Ronon with a pat on John's good leg.

Rodney stood there silently for several moments, as if still waiting on John to say something. The colonel finally looked up into the frightened eyes of his friend. They looked at each other in silence until Rodney finally gave him a nod. "Well, yeah, uh . . . see you later."

After his team disappeared out the door, Keller pulled up a stool and plopped down on it, studying him. "I don't suppose you want to talk about it."

John glanced away, down to the cast on his arm. "Nothing to say. I'm gonna be okay, right?"

"Yes, you should heal fine. But that wasn't what I was talking about and you know it."

John brought his right hand up to rub his face and was amazed at how that simple motion drained his energy. He was becoming more and more aware of his bumps, scrapes, and bruises and they were starting to hurt. That rock that had been digging into his shoulder blade had really left a sore spot that was now making it hard to get comfortable. Add to that the fact that someone was apparently drilling for oil through the top of his skull, which was making his stomach lurch in a very disturbing way.

Keller sighed. "Okay, since you won't answer me about that, will you at least tell me how the pain is? I know you must be starting to hurt."

John looked over to meet her eyes and the compassion he saw cut off the snarky response he'd been about to make. "Yeah, I guess I am. I kinda feel like a mountain fell on me."

Keller grinned. "From what I understand, that's pretty close to what happened. I'll get you something to help with that."

"Thanks," John muttered, leaning his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes. There was a brief tug on his IV and then he felt the pain and tension begin to melt away.

oOo

He woke up feeling like he was suffocating, buried under rock and dirt. In his mind, the tunnel had finished collapsing on him and every attempt to pull in oxygen failed miserably.

"Breathe, colonel! It's just a dream, you can breathe!" A hand gripped his firmly and another pressed something to his face that suddenly provided that much-needed oxygen he'd been lacking. He sucked in a deep breath, coughed, and sucked in another.

"Slowly, colonel, slowly. That's it . . . you're all right." Not so oxygen starved, John relaxed into a warm form behind him and realized someone was supporting him, holding him up so he could breathe. "All right, Colonel, that's much better. Are you with us?"

With his heart rate descending to the land of normalcy, John batted his lids a few times until his eyes were open and he was able to focus on Jennifer Keller, studying him like he might disappear. "Here," John managed to breathe out, his voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

Keller smiled and pulled the mask away, continuing to study him for several moments before she retired the apparatus for good. John tried to look around to see who was behind him, but couldn't get his body to cooperate. He was guessing Ronon from the size, a thought that was confirmed a few moments later when Keller and a nurse supported him so the Satedan could get off the bed. Once Ronon was extricated, the two medical personnel eased John back against the pillows and raised the head of the bed a bit.

John looked up at Ronon, giving him a faint smile. "Thanks . . . Chewie."

"No problem, Sheppard."

Watching the doctor, John waited for Keller to check his pulse and blood pressure, as well as listen with the stethoscope. When she was satisfied he was really okay, she left Ronon with him and went back to her office. Pulling up a chair, Ronon sprawled across it like he was settling in to stay a while.

"What time is it?" John asked, frowning slightly at the semi-dark infirmary. It must be late for the lights to be dimmed this much.

Ronon shrugged his shoulders. "After midnight."

John sighed as the two warriors studied one another. Ronon was never very forthcoming with information. Sometimes John thought digging ditches was less work than getting Ronon to say more than three words at a time. "So, why aren't you asleep?"

"My turn to stay."

John sighed again. "You know . . . you don't have to stay. I'll be okay."

Ronon sat quietly for several minutes, making John think the big guy was ignoring him. He finally leaned forward, putting his elbows on his thighs and clasping his hands in front of him. "What . . . Was it bad . . . being trapped like that?"

The question caught John off guard almost as much as the halting way it was asked. There wasn't much that made Ronon stumble. Once he got over the shock, his mind took him directly back to the tunnel and the darkness. His mouth was suddenly very dry and he felt like something was caught in his throat. A fleeting moment of panic shot his heart rate up before he reminded himself he was safe and home in Atlantis. "Yeah," he whispered, his voice barely audible even to him.

Ronon shifted his eyes down to his feet. "When I was running . . . I felt trapped . . . like I didn't really have any choices . . . and sometimes . . . I didn't. But I could always do . . . _something. _It was hard, but I'm not sure . . . I don't know if I could handle being so . . . "

"Helpless," John filled in. That was how he had felt, completely helpless. He couldn't see, he couldn't move. He could do nothing to save himself, leaving him completely dependent on others.

"Yeah, helpless." Ronon took in a shuddering breath and John realized for the first time that maybe there was something that frightened the mountain of a man after all. He was somewhat comforted by that thought and he didn't feel nearly so embarrassed by his panic spell. "How did you . . . stand it?" Ronon asked softly as his face flushed slightly.

With a tight swallow, John realized if Ronon was willing to show him his fear, then John could admit to his. "Well, after the initial panicked attempt to get free where I almost ripped my arm off, I realized I wasn't going anywhere without help. After that . . . I bounced between wondering if you guys were okay and distracting myself with problems while hoping like crazy a rescue team was coming after me." There. He'd said it. He'd admitted out loud that he panicked. John watched Ronon closely for his response.

The big man brought his eyes back up to meet John's and gave a small nod. "I'm not sure I could have done it. I think I might have brought the whole thing down on me flipping out."

"No," John said with a small smile. "I don't think so. Not you. You might have had a moment or two . . . and I can't blame you for that cause I sure had mine. But then you'd have been okay. Because we would come for you . . . and you'd have remembered that eventually."

"Because we don't leave our people behind," Ronon said, his features beginning to relax a little.

"That's right," John answered. John had experienced a few moments of doubt about whether he would make it out of that tunnel alive, but he had never really doubted that they would come for him. _That, _more than anything, was how he'd been able to hold himself together.

"Hey, are you guys awake?"

John looked up to see Rodney and Teyla approaching the foot of his bed. Rodney held a covered plate and Teyla had a small box. Setting the plate on the side table, Rodney grabbed a couple of chairs and pulled them up beside Ronon. "Are you guys aware it's the middle of the night and the colonel is probably supposed to be resting?"

"Bad dream," John said.

Rodney froze for a few seconds, and then looked at John. "Oh. Yeah, probably not the last one after that little ordeal." He looked quickly away and grabbed the plate that he'd brought in. "I went to the mess hall for a snack and ran into Teyla."

Teyla dipped her head once toward John as she sat down. "It seems neither one of us could sleep."

John smiled, thinking he should probably feel bad about his team's lack of sleep instead of being incredibly grateful for the company. "That's going around tonight."

"Well, be that as it may, we hit the royal jackpot while we were there." Rodney grinned, pulling the foil off the plate to reveal a stack of chocolate chip cookies.

Ronon sat bolt upright at the sight of the goodies. Although they had found very little food that Ronon didn't like, chocolate chip cookies remained one of his favorites. Rodney immediately pulled the plate back, out of the Satedan's reach.

"Down boy, you have to share. First one goes to the injured man," Rodney said, extending the plate toward John. The pilot took the big one off the top of the pile. "And don't forget, you owe me for this."

Passing the plate to Teyla, who removed one cookie, Rodney then sighed and held it out to Ronon, who took a handful, almost emptying the plate. "Somehow I knew that was going to happen," the scientist complained.

Teyla began to pull small milk cartons out of the box and distribute them to the team. John grinned and hoped Keller didn't catch them because she would probably confiscate his snack. Milk and cookies were definitely good comfort food and John could use a little comforting right now, not that he was ever going to admit that out loud.

"Now this . . . this is much better," said Rodney as he bit into his cookie.

"Better than what?" asked Ronon, crumbs dribbling from the corners of his mouth.

Rodney wrinkled his nose and brushed at his sleeve. "Better than anything that's happened in the last few days. Well, except for finding Colonel Cave-in, but that doesn't count because we still had to be worried about him until Jennifer got him all put back together."

"Hey," John drawled, knitting his brows together. "This one was _not_ my fault. And what did I tell you about calling me names."

Shrugging his shoulders, Rodney just smirked. "Hey, if the cave-in fits . . . "

John looked at Ronon, who nodded and stuffed the last of his cookie in his mouth before smacking Rodney in the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Rodney demanded, rubbing his head.

"What is going on in here?" came a harshly whispered voice as Jennifer Keller literally marched out of her office. "Where did all you people come from? This is an infirmary in the middle of the night. Sick and injured people are trying to sleep and you're in here having a party. Colonel, you should be resting, not entertaining . . . are those cookies?"

They all sat silently, gaping at her for several seconds before Rodney suddenly straightened and held out the plate. "Chocolate chip cookie?"

Teyla scrambled around in the box she'd carried in and finally thrust a carton out towards Keller. "We have milk."

John had gone from calculating the likelihood of getting a second cookie before Rodney and Ronon finished them off to debating whether it would be better to hide his half-eaten one under the covers or stuff the rest of it in his mouth before Keller took it away from him. Before he reached a decision, the doctor rolled her eyes and took a cookie and the carton of milk.

"Fine, but you people have got to be quiet or I'll confiscate the rest of the booty and run you all out."

Grinning, John mouthed "thank you" when Keller looked his way. He needed this and he had a feeling that was the real reason she was allowing it. As looked around at his team, his friends, he realized that they needed it too. He hadn't yet stopped to think about how he would have felt if one of them had been buried, possibly dying, and him not able to get to them. They had been almost as trapped and helpless as he'd been.

The nightmares weren't over. And the throbbing in his leg let him know that physical therapy wasn't going to be any picnic either. At least he wouldn't be trapped and helpless, alone in the dark. John chuckled. He'd have to remember that when the physical therapist was telling him to work harder and all he wanted to do was gnaw his leg off.

John finished his cookie and looked up just in time to see Rodney snort milk out his nose during a laughing fit. Teyla rolled her eyes, a habit John was positive came from her Earth friends. Ronon clapped Rodney on the back so hard, he almost knocked him out of his chair while Keller shushed them all in vain. John tried to take in every detail and store it for the next time he was alone and waiting for rescue. With these memories to hold onto, with these people to believe in, he could survive just about anything.

THE END


End file.
